"Red Harry's" Revolution

By Richard Zoglin

A VERY BRITISH COUP PBS; Jan. 15 and 16, 9 p.m. on most stations

Leftists come in all shapes and sizes, but few have the foursquare charm of Harry Perkins. A bluff, charismatic ex-steelworker, he has been swept into power as Britain's Prime Minister with the most radical mandate of the century. From the start, he proves himself a master of both style and substance. Instead of the traditional ride to Downing Street on his first day of work, he opts for an egalitarian stroll. To both insiders and outsiders he pledges openness and honesty. "We stand on our own two feet, and we tell the truth," he instructs his press secretary. "Original, don't you think?"

His socialist agenda is disarmingly up front (at Cabinet meetings he calls his Ministers "comrades"), his tactics street-fighter tough. When the U.S. Government, upset at Perkins' antinuclear policies, turns up the economic pressure, he thumbs his nose by going to the Soviet Union for a financial bailout. Gleefully making the announcement at a press conference, he even supplies the tabloid writers with their next morning's headline: PERKINS SAVED BY KREMLIN GOLD!

The trouble for "Red Harry," as the right-wing press dubs him, is that he is not really in charge. His phone is being tapped. The CIA has infiltrated his Cabinet. His own intelligence chief is ferreting out scandals, real and invented, in an effort to bring down his government. In A Very British Coup, an engrossing new Masterpiece Theatre presentation, Perkins starts out trying to make a revolution. He ends up making a stand for the quaint notion that governments should be run by the people elected to office.

After years of good, gray Masterpiece Theatre dramas, this three-hour import from Britain's innovative Channel 4 comes like a bracing wind from the North Sea. No decorous Edwardian soap opera, no fine period costumes, no tasteful cello music. This is a crackling, contemporary political thriller, directed at headlong speed by Mick Jackson from a witty, clued-in script by Alan Plater. The dialogue is dense, often overlapping, sometimes unintelligible. Compared with such relatively simpleminded American efforts as the NBC mini-series Favorite Son, A Very British Coup seems revolutionary in its own right: a TV political drama for adults.

First, it gets the texture right, from the Cabinet meetings presided over with brusque efficiency by Perkins to the crowd of reporters that provides a constant heckling chorus. The plot is imaginative but plausible, just a half- step beyond today's headlines. When the power workers' union goes on strike to protest Perkins' economic plans, soccer stadiums are plunged into darkness and the nation into harsh second thoughts about the new regime. Later, to dramatize his views on disarmament, Perkins arranges to have a nuclear weapon dismantled on live TV. "I once tried middle of the road," he tells an aide. "I was knocked down by traffic in both directions."

Ray McAnally, at once steely and folksy, could not be better as Perkins. The film's message -- that a sinister shadow government is calling the shots, no matter who takes office -- is perhaps too fashionably paranoid. But this savvy political tale shows an uncynical faith in the ability of politicians to act on their beliefs, seek change, do battle honorably against evil. After a disillusioning presidential campaign, A Very British Coup may be just what American viewers need.